


Nothing

by hitmewiththatfanart33



Series: Sanders Sides Oneshots [4]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Song: The Things We Used to Share (Thomas Sanders), analogical - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:14:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24833647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hitmewiththatfanart33/pseuds/hitmewiththatfanart33
Summary: Logan hasn't been the same since he and Virgil broke up, and in a moment of desperation, he calls him late at night.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders
Series: Sanders Sides Oneshots [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1796293
Comments: 2
Kudos: 71





	Nothing

Those eyes, filled with betrayal and despair and anger as they looked at him, kept Logan up at night. An empty apartment, an empty chest. Everything appeared to keep him from sleeping lately.

It seemed there was nothing that could fill the void that tore at him, made him feel like he was suffocating— drowning from the inside out.

Nothing except righting the wrongs he'd done to the owner of those eyes.

He curled tighter into himself, trying desperately to replicate the feeling of being held; of being loved, but it was to no avail. Nothing could replace the presence of the boy that had left a cold dent in his bed.

Nothing, nothing, nothing: that word reoccurred in his thoughts countless times to the point where he was sick of it, yet repetition was hardly an inconvenience compared to how destroyed he felt, and if the word 'nothing' would describe him forever, then so be it. Because without him, that's what he was.

Which was why he didn't need anything— didn't deserve anything, and had told Virgil that he didn't care. Because the toaster meant nothing to him if Virgil wasn't there to cram its produce into Logan's face, coated with a layer of his favorite jelly right before they both burst into laughter and Logan tried to kiss him with the excuse of 'his lips tasted like grapes.' What was their favorite movie, the couch, and the TV if Virgil wasn't there in his arms on a movie night to share them? Logan had even told him to keep the jacket that Virgil had bought him, and at the time Logan had claimed that it was because he didn't want anything to do with Virgil, when he really meant that he couldn't bear to put it on if it would only be a reminder of him.

Virgil had just glared in response, and had begun dumping all of his belongings into every bag he owned, and it was only later that Logan noticed his compass and spyglass were gone. He still wasn't quite sure what it meant. For him it seemed he'd lost all sense of direction and the ability to see what lay before him in both a literal and metaphorical sense.

And he knew he should be filled with regret over these things, but even if he had the chance to take it back, he wouldn't, for he'd meant it with his whole heart when he'd told Virgil 'what's mine is yours.' Truly, Logan didn't want any of his things to return unless it meant Virgil came with them.

But there was one thought that ran just as frequently through his head as 'nothing' did:

_'What did you do with my heart?'_ Over and over and over again until Logan found himself trembling and choking on tears in bed.

What _had_ Virgil done with his heart? Logan couldn't find it anymore. It was missing ever since he'd left, and he found himself doing so many things without meaning or passion or the spark that made humans keep going. He was sure if he were to see fireworks or a full sky of stars like he had viewed so frequently with his beloved, they would seem dull and quiet, everything muted, all because— because...

Virgil _was_ his heart.

A sob tore through his body, clawing its way to the surface and permeating the room, and he sat up, finally yielding in his battle to sleep. Tonight was the night he fixed it all. He couldn't keep living like this: missing him so badly that it physically hurt and kept his thoughts too scattered to work. Either he won Virgil back, or life continued on the way it was, and doing nothing about it would eliminate the chance of succeeding in the first option.

He took a shaky breath and picked up his phone, holding his knees to his chest once he'd done so. His lock-screen was still a picture of the two of them, for Logan couldn't bear to change it, regardless of what he'd made Virgil think during the fight that had ended in their parting. God, Logan wanted to take it all back so badly and just start over. But the mistake was made, and Logan had to own up to it and make things right.

Even without his glasses, he could easily find the contact he was looking for, and the familiar rumble of the phone ringing filled the room. He wasn't expecting an answer, but he at least wanted to leave a message rather than send a text that would only make him seem more cold and heartless than Virgil already thought him to be. He owed Virgil that much at least. Logan swallowed, taking another sharp, teary-eyed breath, and his torture finally ended when the ringing stopped and the sound of Virgil's voicemail filled the room. He froze, holding his breath just to listen to the memory of his voice.

_"This is Virgil, leave a message... or don't. You may have gotten the wrong number, I don't know."_ Then there was a beep, and Logan began to take in air once more.

"Virgil, I know it's late, but I had to do this while I still had the courage," he began slowly so he had time to formulate what he would say. "I cannot express to you how truly sorry I am..." His voice became higher in pitch as the tears rushed into his eyes more fiercely, and he knew that the message would betray through his choppy, trembling breathing that he was crying, but he had to say it. He had to, or he'd never get back his Star, the person he'd revolved around for so long, and whose absence had thrown him out of orbit.

He swallowed. "But I have to at least try. So um— I miss you. I miss you so much it leaves me feeling sore, and I can no longer collect my thoughts because... because they're still with you, my heart. Please, uh... please call me back." Then he pulled the phone away from his face, his stomach twisting, and felt alone once more.

Needless to say, he wasn't going to get any sleep after that. So he got out of bed, feet shuffling against the boring carpet of the apartment, and moved to wash the tears off of his face in the bathroom. Looking at himself in the mirror, he realized just how pathetic he looked, which made him suddenly regret sending a crying voicemail to Virgil this late at night. The most he'd done was likely embarrass himself if he was being logical here. With a sigh, he turned on the faucet.

It was amusing to him that he was so numb that he couldn't even feel the water, and finding the satire in the night's events, he laughed weakly at himself. Look at the "computer" now. He was completely falling apart, and if Virgil never called him back, he didn't know what he'd do.

Hours later, likely too late to be night and too early to be morning, Logan was jolted awake from where he'd nodded off on the couch watching whatever Tim Burton movie caught his eye by a knock. Confused, and with no regard to his well-being, he got up and opened the door without question.

His heart stopped, but Logan was at least glad to see that he had one.

In fact, it was standing at the door.

With a small, shaky gasp, he stepped back. It was him. He was here, and he looked exactly the same as when he'd left: his messy-haired emo.

Logan wasn't hallucinating.

_This was real._

"Virgil?" he breathed out in disbelief.

"Felt like a call was a little impersonal," Virgil said casually, though Logan could see how his hands fidgeted and his posture was stiff.

For the first time in the weeks they'd been apart, Logan smiled. He genuinely smiled through tears, breathily laughing in pure relief and joy to see him— to be able to experience his familiar humor.

"Can I come in?" he asked gently, serious for just a moment before going back to keeping his words light. "Wouldn't want you to have to watch my favorite movie without me," he teased. Logan glanced behind him, and sure enough, the Nightmare Before Christmas had made its way onto the TV.

After shaking off his initial shock, Logan nodded haltingly before becoming more sure of himself. "Of course." It was everything he'd wanted and dreamed of from the moment they had parted. He scrubbed at his eyes, and ran a hand through his hair as he stepped out of the way to let him in, knowing he was a wreck, but at least Virgil was _here_.

After locking the door once more, he returned to the living room where Virgil waited with a look of deep concern. He must've noticed that the apartment wasn't its usual pristine self, and that Logan barely looked like himself anymore despite it only having been a few weeks since he'd last been here. Wordlessly, Virgil stepped closer, taking Logan's hands in his own and gently turning his palms upwards, inspecting every inch of him as if to make sure he was okay other than the lack of sleep. He brushed his thumb gently against his wrist before letting go.

Logan bit his lip the entire time, but he couldn't help the whimper that escaped him as the emotions became too much. He didn't deserve this. "I know," whispered Virgil sympathetically. The moment he slid his arms around Logan, he collapsed into his shoulder, gripping him as his unrestrained cries shook the both of them.

Virgil simply stroked his hair and shushed him whilst his heart broke into a thousand pieces. "Come on. You'll feel better after you sleep," he murmured.

Logan allowed Virgil to pull away and begin gently tugging his arm towards the hall. "God, I missed you so much," he said miserably.

And for that night, Virgil held him in quiet, their loneliness canceling out as it mingled together through their arms and soft fingertips. They could talk in the morning. For now, they just needed each other and a good night's rest. 


End file.
